A friend who is a nurse and used to work at Juan Luis, called while I was there and asked how the food was. She said that it used to be pretty good, for hospital food. I could not agree that it was respectable, even for hospital food.

My first “meal” the evening after my surgery was called “clear broth” and consisted of a cup of broth, some orange jello and some apple juice. Probably the most unappetizing things I could think of. But I wasn’t that hungry anyway. Still just groggy from the drugs. The broth was too salty. Michael, who was still with me had to dilute it to make it palatable. I think I may have consumed half of it. I think I ate two bites of jello. I DESPISE jello. Jello is a non-food and why they would serve something so ridiculous in a hospital is so beyond me that it makes me irate.
I just ate the two bites to placate the “powers that be” who were in charge of overseeing my food consumption. I also hate apple juice. It’s too sweet. So Michael diluted that for me and I drank most of it (I was still so thirsty I could have drunk a river - and then they give you salty broth - brilliant!).

The next morning when breakfast time came around I was famished. I happily greeted the nice lady from “dietary” but faced another tray of “clear broth”. The same crap I’d had the night before. UGH!! My doctor came and listened to my heart, lungs and belly. “Have you been passing gas?” he asked, as I complained about the food. Oh! So THAT was the magical thing to placate the food gods. If I pass gas, I pass, and can move on to the next phase of hospital food (it HAD to be better than broth, jello and apple juice). I compliantly said, “Yes, I’ve been farting like a trucker.” He said, “Good, you can have something besides clear broth for lunch.”

But, I was raised to believe that girls and women were NOT supposed to pass gas. And even though gas was coming out, it wasn’t making a lot of noise or commotion. It was just very subdued. But he liked the belly noises. So I was ready to be fed.

Lunch was spaghetti and meatballs with wilted frozen green peas. And a piece of wheat bread with margarine. I think a small salad with french dressing was with that, too. And apple juice (have I mentioned my disdain for apple juice?). The spaghetti was stuck together and the meatballs were tasteless. The peas were the best thing on the plate. I ate about half of it with my piece of bread and saved the salad for a snack later. I didn’t want to inundate my digestive system.

Peter came to visit and brought a lovely vase of birds of paradise with a huge yellow lily and some lush greenery. Thanks, Petey! A while after he left, Nikki came with some beautiful white irises in a cool vase that looks like it’s cracked. Thanks, Pook! My dinner came while she was there. A chicken breast (skin on) with rice pilaf and overcooked broccoli. And finally, something drinkable - cranberry juice!

I ate most of the rice and a couple of bites of chicken (no skin). I love broccoli, even well done, so I devoured that, and drank my juice. Michael arrived, shortly thereafter with a huge slice of Napoleon’s veggie pizza. I would’ve killed for that before I filled up on my institutional meal, but now I was too full, and he had already eaten a large slice of meaty pizza before coming. So it sat and he ate it for breakfast the next morning. I had a couple of bites. It was still better than the hospital food. My breakfast arrived while he was still there. A hard-boiled egg, some oatmeal, melon, orange juice (hallelujah), a big plate of corned beef hash and some white bread. I wished I had eaten more of the pizza. I ate some of the melon, the egg and the soupy oatmeal and thoroughly enjoyed the juice, but the rest just pissed me off. How are people supposed to get well eating crap like that? Isn’t that the stuff doctors are always telling people to avoid?

My doctor arrived after Michael left to feed dogs/cats and go to work for a couple of hours. He listened again to my belly with the BIG question. And yes, FYI, I had been passing gas…… and more! Success! My digestive system was back in full swing. I could go home whenever I wanted, he said. But not really, because Michael was at work and I had to wait for him to pick me up. So, I got to have lunch.

It was by far the best meal yet. A nice piece of white fish (with fungi*, which I didn’t eat) and buttered spinach (yum), a slice of wheat bread with margarine and German Chocolate Cake (my reward for all that slop I had eaten for the past couple of days). Mmmm mmmm, good!

*Fungi, pronounced “foon-jee” is the local version of polenta, cooked cornmeal, another of my non-favorites.

Tags: St. Croix

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